


Tsukishima Kei wasn't having a good day. Then again, when was he?.... [[DISCONTINUED]]

by mediocre



Category: HQ - Fandom, Haikyuu!!, haikyuu
Genre: Confession, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Gay, Karasuno, Karasuno Family, M/M, Mama!Suga, Past Injuries, ROLLING THUNDER, confused feelings, confused gay kids, it is v gay im sorry, kenma x psp for life, lots of references to space, mention of other teams, papa!daichi, so much salt, the great king - Freeform, the king - Freeform, the third years are all so precious, training camp happens, tsukki is salt prince, volleyball dorks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:45:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9360128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocre/pseuds/mediocre
Summary: Here's that TsukkiYama that no one but me asked for because, let's face it, they each have room for so much character development, and I want the Salt Prince (TM) to be happy for once.Also, everyone is gay.By everyone, I mean *everyone*.





	1. Of course the day had to start like this.

**Author's Note:**

> here is my super-cringey writing guys  
> hope you guys like it as much as i hate it when i go back to edit it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there's rain, little dinosaurs, and minor angst.  
> Hooray.

Tsukishima Kei wasn't having a good day. Then again, when was he?

He’d woken up late, having forgotten to set the alarm clock on his bedside table. He had stupidly stayed up studying past midnight for a mathematics exam too. Tsukishima rubbed his hands down his face, wincing at the lines the pillow had left in his cheek, not to mention the slight pain in his left hand and the burning in his right. The pain in his left hand had been present ever since he started blocking, and the right ever since the qualifying match for nationals. One of his fingers had been jammed and his pinkie had been dislocated so quickly and savagely that the webbing between it and his ring finger tore. It had been only a few weeks since that match and his hand had still not healed completely. Tsukishima ran his good hand over his knuckles and shuddered.

He grumbled a quiet curse and swung his legs out of bed. Tsukishima felt the pull in his muscles from yesterday's morning and afternoon practices as he stood. He glanced over at his alarm clock and started to panic. He only had a half hour to get to school.

He pulled on his uniform, shoving his aching limbs into it as fast as he could. He didn't have time to comb his hair so his cowlicks were more present than normal. They fanned out obnoxiously and he cursed again, attempting to flatten his hair with his hands as he grabbed his school bag, phone and headphones before heading down stairs. His mother had left him a note on the counter. His lunch was apparently in the fridge, his mother was apparently going to be late getting home tonight, he was apparently expected to cook dinner, and his mother apparently still thought it was okay to call him a ‘little dinosaur’.

No, there was only one person in the world who was allowed to call him by any nicknames. That was Yamaguchi, his best friend and yet another problem on Tsukishima’s ever-expanding list.

Tsukishima plugged his headphones in and rammed them onto his head, selecting a random song from a playlist aptly named ‘I don't want to be here right now’. The music didn't matter, the distraction did. He packed his lunch into his school bag, snatched some fruit from the bowl his mother insisted on keeping on the counter (Tsukishima didn't even care enough to see what it was, that's how panicked and frustrated he was right now) and walked outside, heading in the direction of Yamaguchi’s house. He finished the fruit (an apple) quickly and tossed the core into the nearest bin, which turned out to be a 5 minute walk away..

Now his hand was sticky. Fantastic.

With the way his day was going, it came as no surprise to him when it started to rain right as he turned the corner and Yamaguchi’s house came into view. The raindrops were big and heavy and did a nice job of flattening his cowlicks (and the rest of his hair, for that matter), making his glasses impossible to see out of, and slicking the sidewalk. Tsukishima hadn’t thought to get an umbrella that morning. He cursed again, this time inwardly, seeing as Yamaguchi was waiting just inside the doorway for him and didn't like cursing very much.

Yamaguchi didn't like any sorts of bad habits, actually. He avoided staying up late, called all of the third year and second years ‘senpai’ despite the fact that they were close friends, and Tsukishima was fairly certain he'd never let a drop of alcohol touch him, including the stuff in first aid kits.

“Tsukki, where were you? You're soaking wet!” Yamaguchi exclaimed, stepping outside of his house as he saw the blond approaching. He opened his umbrella with a snap as he stepped into the rain.

Tsukishima turned down the volume of his music. “I slept late on accident.”

Yamaguchi sidled up beside him, holding the umbrella up high to try and shield them both from rain. Yamaguchi was 179.5 centimeters, 8.8 centimeters shorter than Tsukishima, so Tsukishima took the umbrella, saying “this is easier”. Yamaguchi looked at him in quiet thanks and kept the comfortable silence around them. He listened to the pitter patter of the rain against the green plastic of the umbrella, the rhythmic scraping of shoes against sidewalk as they passed the park, and- wait, was Tsukishima humming? Yamaguchi listened closer, tilting his ear upwards to hear better. Yes, Tsukishima was humming.

Yamaguchi hid his beaming smile behind his sleeve. Tsukishima never hummed, sang, or even talked much in front of others, save him. Hell, Yamaguchi hadn’t heard him sing since they were kids.

Suddenly the humming stopped. Yamaguchi had to fight to stop a disappointed sigh; Tsukishima had a really nice voice.

“Yamaguchi.”

“Yes?” Yamaguchi wrestled his face back into a neutral expression before chancing a look up at the blonde.

“You're too close to me.”

Yamaguchi blinked at the bluntness, poor word choice and slight monotone, but he couldn't say he was surprised by any of it. His face pinked a bit in embarrassment and he offered up a quick “sorry, Tsukki”. He shifted away as far as the confines of the umbrella would allow, giving Tsukishima his space. He hadn’t realized he'd edged closer to listen. The embarrassed silence melted back into a comfortable one as the pair arrived at school, turning in the gates and into the building. As Yamaguchi shook rain from his umbrella, Tsukishima headed to his locker. He changed out his shoes, deep in thought.

Tsukishima had been fighting his emotions for the majority of his life. He was always taller than kids his age so they were always afraid of him. Most of them had run away on sight. He adopted the bully persona they stuck him with even though it made him incredibly uncomfortable. He didn't smile, didn't frown, only kept a blank expression. It didn’t matter what happened; the others could call him names, push him in the mud, insult him. He never changed.

Soon the persona leaked into his life at home and it was too late to change back. His peers still teased him but Tsukishima never fought back. Not physically, at least. His biting words proved enough to ensure he had no friends or even acquaintances. Now he could be alone as much as he wanted.

One day he saved Yamaguchi from a troupe of bullies in a rare lapse of his hardass persona (he had been especially lonely that day and that poor boy on the ground reminded him of the way he used to be), but he was glad he'd done it. Now he had a very sensitive, short, cute boy following him around, one who even joined the volleyball team in an effort to thank him and be friends with him.

It didn't take long for Tsukishima to discover the fact that he was gay. Secondary school was hard but Yamaguchi unconditionally accepted and supported him. Tsukishima only ever came out to Yamaguchi. His friend listened to his boy problems whenever he was willing to talk about them (read; was in the midst of a panic attack and had no idea what to do), the shorter offering wonderful advice. Yamaguchi was a genius when it came to other people and Tsukishima was incredibly grateful for him. The smaller boy had been a part of his life for so long that Tsukishima wasn't sure where he ended and Yamaguchi began. And of course Tsukishima had developed feelings for the other boy. Yamaguchi was so sweet and smart and gentle and humble and shy but still had strong senses of both individuality and humor. It was only natural that Tsukishima had fallen for him.

The blond wasn't necessarily happy about his feelings, though. He’s had them for so long and they were so vibrant and deep that they almost sickened him. Having feelings for someone, especially gay feelings for the best friend whose life was so intertwined with his own, was confusing. The club rooms where he was surrounded by incredibly fit, incredibly male athletes apparently weren't punishment enough. They made it supremely difficult to hide his sexuality, but since he had feelings for a teammate now, he completely steered clear of the club rooms. He had a refueled determination to now. Tsukishima often offered to stay after practice and clean up the gym alone in an unusual show of kindness, offering the reason “I don't think very many of you are smart enough to fold the net right. Some of you couldn't even pass exams, remember?”

The ensuing rage from Hinata and Kageyama had distracted the rest of the team from his flimsy excuse. Well, the rest of the team save Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi had never confronted Tsukishima on his feelings about anything, though, even when he knew something was up, for which the blond was incredibly grateful. It was another of the attributes on the almost disgustingly long list of things he liked about his best friend.

He cursed again, this time out loud.

“Tsukki!”

Tsukishima sighed. “Sorry, Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi blew his hair out of his eyes as he tucked his home shoes into his locker and shut it. “Do you have a towel or something? Your hair is still really wet.”

“No, I don't.”

Yamaguchi tutted, sounding for all the world like a concerned mother. He reopened his locker and took out a clean handkerchief (Yamaguchi was the only teenage boy he knew who carried a handkerchief, it was kind of cute), standing on his tiptoes and draping it over Tsukishima’s head. Tsukishima took off his headset, tucked it and his phone into his bag, dried off his hair as well as he could with the small cloth and promised to wash the handkerchief and return it.

Yamaguchi nodded. The two set off in the direction of their class, 1-4. Yamaguchi glanced at his watch on the way and gasped in complete terror. “Tsukki, we only have three minutes to get to class.”

Tsukishima blinked. He wasn't in the mood to publicly apologize for tardiness to the class today. “If we hurry we can make it.” He started to jog, long legs sending him yards ahead of Yamaguchi before the smaller boy even realized what was going on. Yamaguchi scrambled to follow him, echos of their footsteps bouncing off of the walls and floors. Other students saw them through open classroom doors, pity and laughter in their eyes in equal measure. Tsukishima ignored them as Yamaguchi shied away from the attention. They made it to classroom 1-4 and into their side-by-side seats just as time ran out, Yamaguchi panting from their impromptu sprint and Tsukishima looking none the worse for wear.

Their teacher, a kind, middle-aged woman whose hair was still not even close to gray, tutted at their late arrival but didn't say anything. She quickly got the class’s attention, reading the announcements from a small paper on her lectern. “The baseball club recently had a member retire, so they have another spot open.” The students grumbled. The baseball club hadn’t been doing as well as many of the other clubs had, especially the volleyball club.

Just remembering the regional finals match made Tsukishima’s bad hand ache, but a rush of- pride?- helped him ignore it.

The teacher clapped her hands to get their attention. “Class, clear your desks. It's time for your math test.” She began passing out papers as soon as the last syllable left her mouth.

A quiet sigh passed through the room in waves. The students obeyed, most of them stiff with worry, Tsukishima included. Normally he wouldn't be worried at all; math was his best subject. But today was different. His free time had all been absorbed with volleyball and he didn't have any time for additional study, plus his right hand still spasmed with pain if he held a pencil for too long.

The teacher knew this and quietly told him that he could come in and finish it after school if he needed to. Tsukishima nodded and began the test. On any other day he would reject the extra time, calling it needless charity, but today he was too frazzled to feel weak for accepting help. The sheer difficulty of the math wasn't helping his fragile state. Formulas and variables danced through his head, pi and omega becoming irreparably confused. Eventually he had to give up, the sharp burn in his hand and head alike doing him in. He just sat there, surrounded by the sound of pencils frantically scratching on paper as he waited for class to end.

Thankfully he didn’t have to sit long. Soon their present teacher left, taking up all of the papers and wishing high scores on them as she left. Their next teacher, a portly old man who was way too excited about teaching geography to high schoolers, entered and Tsukishima resigned himself to boredom.


	2. Notebooks, Vending Machines, and Cat-Like Sneezes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys  
> when i wrote this i didnt like it and i still dont  
> but im actually continuing some of my writing for once?? its honestly amazing that im finding motivation  
> heres hoping i dont mess up

Tsukishima’s prediction of ensuing, geography-based boredom was undeniably correct. The teacher droned on and on, going off on tangent after tangent, until they completely roamed from the subject of peoples indigenous to Africa and how the landbridge helped them migrate to migrating birds to the zoo. Tsukishima had given up on seriously taking notes before the lecture had derailed, leaving about half of it out of his notebook. He opted instead to make his own sort of shorthand, abbreviating everything to make it easier to write, using arrows to indicate direction of migration and trends of movement. Just for kicks, he also took notes on the migrating birds and zoos the teacher still seemed adamant on discussing. As class ended and the teacher left, Tsukishima glanced down at his paper. He wanted to make sure it made sense; he had never used shorthand before.

As soon as Tsukishima glanced down at his paper, he vowed to never use shorthand again. His paper was a mess. Wobbly arrows and crooked shapes crisscrossed messily on the page, creating an intricate web of untraceable information. He had been present and attentive for the class, he had been the one to take the notes, and he still couldn’t make sense of them. He shook his head. In addition to the mess of “diagrams” in the margins, his handwriting was atrocious. He didn’t have good penmanship on the average day, but now it was worse than normal due to his injury.

He sighed and brushed his hair away from his forehead. The last vestiges of frustration from this morning coupled with the new frustration of his botched attempt at notetaking. He closed his notebook with a loud snap and put it into his bag a bit too roughly. Yamaguchi heard the snap of the covers closing and the aggressively loud sound of the zipper and looked up from his own notes. As soon as the teacher left them for the short break, he asked a question, one that he typically avoided, one that he’d asked far too many times in the past few days. Yamaguchi was starting to get worried.

“Tsukki, are you okay?”

Tsukishima was startled out of his frustration by the genuinely concerned tone in Yamaguchi’s voice. “Hm?” He dropped his hand from his hair and softened his expression back into the normal neutral one before he offered up his answer. “Yes, I'm fine.”

Yamaguchi raised an eyebrow, the very picture of disbelief. “If you say so.” He turned back to his notebook with a small shrug and picked up his pencil. “Can I hold your notebook for a while, please?”

Now it was Tsukishima’s turn to raise an eyebrow.. Yamaguchi never asked to borrow anything from him. “Why?”

“I’m going to copy down my notes for you.”

Tsukishima blinked a bit in surprise and gratitude before handing over his book. He rolled his eyes and ignored Yamaguchi’s snickering when he flipped to the atrocious notes he had taken that day. The rest of their short break was spent in relative ‘silence’; they were in a high school classroom, after all.

Tsukishima watched Yamaguchi as he wrote, grey-brown eyes dancing between the pair of open notebooks. Tsukishima noticed the small, deliberate handwriting; the slight shake of Yamaguchi’s head when he spelled something wrong and had to erase the mistake; the long, almost delicate fingers of his left hand tapping rhythmically on the desk. Tsukishima shook his head a bit. He didn’t want to be caught staring, not with the rumors. He opted to instead focus his attention on his desktop, following the pattern of the wood grain with his eyes. The break passed like that quickly, much too quickly for Tsukishima’s liking.

Yamaguchi returned Tsukishima’s notebook with a promise to recopy the rest for him later. Tsukishima thanked his friend for his consideration (how can someone be this kind?) and turned his attention back to the front of the room right as their next teacher entered.

~~~

“I hate English,” Yamaguchi said bitterly, locking his fingers and stretching out his arms behind him. Sitting perfectly still at a desk all day was hardly his favorite thing to do. At least it was lunch now and he didn’t have to do it anymore. He had a while before he had to throw himself into his schoolwork again. He glanced up at Tsukishima who had already taken out his lunch, but hadn’t yet plugged in his headphones. That was strange- Tsukishima never made himself so easy to talk to. Yamaguchi decided to take advantage of this and to try and make conversation. “Tsukki, how well do you think you did on the math test?”

The blond sighed and pushed his hair off of his forehead yet again, exasperation in his voice. “I don’t know, but it definitely wasn’t good.”

“That’s surprising. You’re usually so good at math. And you’re confident, too.” After a short silence in which Tsukishima quickly polished off his food, Yamaguchi retrieved his wallet from his bag, opened it and took out money for the vending machines. “Wanna go with me?”

Tsukishima nodded and stood. He stretched much like Yamaguchi had before and lead the way out of the room. Apparently his natural leadership managed to persist despite being invited along. Yamaguchi smiled a bit to himself. He wasn’t surprised. Nothing about Tsukishima could surprise him anymore.

That, he supposed, was what made Tsukishima his best friend. He was dependable, if moody and a bit too blunt for most people, but the blond would never, ever hurt anyone on purpose. If he did, he had a good, valid reason to, a reason that always turned out to be worth it. They were reasons like getting someone to stop being so self-centered or, the complete opposite, helping them realize that they weren’t worthless. Tsukishima had had to give Yamaguchi the “you aren’t worthless” talk several times during the time they had known each other.

Yamaguchi had never been a very confident person. Other kids had teased him ever since his first year of primary school, calling him out about his freckles, his high voice, his thin stature. He had shrunk into himself, slouching all the time in an effort to fit in. He had been taller than a lot of other kids, and that made him stand out. Yamaguchi didn’t like standing out very much. In fact, he hated it. Attention brought problems. If it was bad attention, like for his physical appearance, the teasing and the hurting was merciless. If it was good attention, other kids put him down for scoring higher, calling him a mama’s boy who was so friendless and lonely that all he could do to occupy himself was study. The bullies made sure the latter tease always came true.

Yamaguchi now knew that he shouldn’t let words hurt him, but knowing what you should do and putting it into practice were two entirely different things. The taunts that other teams threw his way during volleyball matches had the same effect on him that the bullies did. The taunts that fired up the rest of his team actually made him nervous. He was better at handling it now (he was better at handling a lot of things now) but someone calling him weak didn’t sit well with him.

Yamaguchi sighed. He hated sorting through his emotions. The more he tried, the more confused he got. On the one hand, he had the need to succeed. He wanted to become a starting player for the volleyball club. He wanted to get the best grades and get into the most advanced class available, class 2-5, next year. On the other hand, he had crippling doubt in his abilities and a lingering hatred of himself and the way he looked (especially the way he looked) from the long, long days in secondary school that had seemed to stretch on for years at a time. Self-hatred doesn’t just go away. He’d learned that the hard way.

And then, on the third hand (the more complicated his emotions got, the more complicated and impossible the analogy) he had his sexual orientation to figure out too.

Yamaguchi admired people like Suga-senpai and Daichi-san. The two were both more or less open about themselves. They didn’t go advertising that they were gay (that was practically social suicide where they lived) but they would always tell someone and be completely honest if asked about their relationship status and orientation. The two of them being in such a happy relationship was just so inspiring to him. Yamaguchi was disappointed that the two third years would be retiring soon; he would miss their warm presence and courage.

Tsukishima was courageous, too, in his own way. He didn’t tell anyone about his sexuality save Yamaguchi. The fact that the blond trusted him so much made Yamaguchi’s heart burst with pride. Pride and something... else. He didn’t know what that something was, but it wasn’t just friendship anymore. Yamaguchi figured that out when he realized he analyzed every text Tsukishima sent him for deeper meaning, searched for symbolism in every one of Tsukishima’s very rare idle touches. Yamaguchi was just so, so confused. He hadn’t felt like… whatever this was for any boy before, or for any girls, come to think of it. Love had never seemed like it could happen to him. He wasn’t a romantic at heart; he didn’t want flowers from a secret admirer, he didn’t want a first kiss in the rain and he certainly didn’t anyone to confess to him.

At least, he didn’t want these things in the past. He wanted them now, though. He wanted flowers from a secret admirer, he wanted a first kiss in the rain and he certainly wanted someone to confess to him. That someone was his best friend, Tsukishima Kei. When he realized this three months ago, the confusion started.

Yamaguchi snapped out of his reverie. He and Tsukishima had reached the row of vending machines and, judging from the look of barely retained patience on Tsukishima’s face, they had been there for a while. He had apparently decided to wake Yamaguchi up from whatever weird trance he was in with a “Yamaguchi, snap out of it.”

Yamaguchi blinked. “Oh, sorry Tsukki.” He rubbed the back of his neck in mild embarrassment. “How long was I spaced out?”

“A minute.”

Now the embarrassment had moved past the mild zone. It was full-on moderate now.Yamaguchi bit his lip and apologized nervously. In his flustered state, he practically shoved all of his money into the machine, punched a few random buttons, and grabbed whatever snacks it spewed out. He then immediately turned back in the direction of the classroom, beginning the short walk with zeal and blindly trusting Tsukishima would follow behind him. He did.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes. Usually Yamaguchi was a bit distracted and spacey, but this wasn’t like him. He didn’t go on autopilot for entire walks. Yamaguchi was always a chatterbox around lunchtime, his energy going on full because he wasn’t stuck in a desk. Tsukishima found that cute.

No, Kei, stop thinking of your same-sex best friend as cute. That warning thought, however, didn’t work, because in that very moment, Yamaguchi chose to sneeze and of course it had to be one of his sort of-famous kitten-like sneezes.

Tsukishima slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from bursting out laughing. The expression on Yamaguchi’s face, one of surprise, embarrassment, and just plain disgust at the sound he just made all rolled into one, was absolutely priceless. Tsukishima wished his best friend wouldn’t consider it extremely rude if he took out his phone and photographed the face. It was that good.

Yamaguchi looked up at Tsukishima, his best death glare firmly in place. His arms came up and crossed resolutely across his chest. “Hey, Tsukki, what’s so funny?”

Whenever Tsukishima finally caught both his breath and something with a mild resemblance to composure, he spoke. “You sound like a squeaky toy.”

An indignant gasp ripped from Yamaguchi’s mouth, arms snapping back to his sides. “I do not! Take that back, Tsukki!”

So much for composure, Tsukishima thought as he burst out laughing, this time completely helpless to stop it. After a while, Yamaguchi laughed too. The pair had to stop walking completely and lean against each other for support. After about thirty seconds and just as many curious and bewildered stares from passerby, the two regained their breath. Yamaguchi looked up at Tsukishima, having to tilt his head up at an uncomfortable angle to do so due to their close proximity. “Seriously, I don’t sneeze like a squeaky toy.”

“Sure, Yamaguchi.”

Yamaguchi elbowed his friend but didn’t say anything else as the two resumed their walk back to their classroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kageyama and hinata are officially introduced in this guys  
> also  
> holD ONTO YOUR HATS  
> THE ANGST THAT NOBODY WANTED IS HERE AND IT JUST GOT *REAL*

As soon as their biology teacher ended the last lesson of the day, the students all leapt into action, all tiredness and severe boredom from the last three hours of lessons long gone. A trio of girls whose names all escaped Tsukishima at the moment rushed to the back of the classroom on a search for the cleaning supplies they would need. Noise exploded from the students as the three moved, the students all getting up to walk with or to their friends. The initial flood out of the door cleared up rather quickly, leaving behind those whose friends were still in the room. Despite some of the class being gone, the volume level remained stagnant. It was disgustingly loud now The largest group of friends in the class in the class (maybe even the largest group of friends at Karasuno High, seeing as there were ten of them) all stood and gathered their bags. They were an even mix of boys and girls, tall and short. Most of them looked as perfect as the group was diverse. Tsukishima bit his lip and remained seated but it wasn’t out of jealousy. He had stopped wanting the approval of this group about six months ago due to the group’s “leader”.

The leader was a boy. His name was Katsuo Gou, and he was the one that made Tsukishima realize he was gay.

The boy was everything that anyone would want in a partner. He was beautiful for one, his sharp and masculine features contrasting with his gentle nature. He had received many confessions throughout the year from boys and girls alike. Gou accepted none of them, instead choosing to remain steadfastly alone. Tsukishima had retained his feelings for Gou since he first laid eyes on the boy, and they continually grew stronger before he fell for someone else. That someone was Yamaguchi. Tsukishima frowned outwardly, and inwardly, his eyes watered. He remembered crying himself to sleep night after night or just laying awake and staring at the ceiling, hating himself for his feelings. Denial clutched at his heart and at his words and he ended up freezing. He felt that self hatred still, that feeling that he was different, the feeling that he would find no one to call his husband, the feeling that he was never going to be accepted by his parents, the feeling that he was a coward for not coming out.

That last regret was the hardest to cope with by a long shot. He had watched Daichi and Suga’s relationship for the past year along with the rest of the team. It was a quiet, understated affair around most people, each of them still blushing at any sort of public affection they displayed. The demure act was in no way what their relationship was like (Suga ended up with hickeys too often for that to ever be true so the pair had given up hiding, now as open as they liked around the team), but.... Their relationship was amazing, a stellar example of the fact that two boys can be in love just like a boy and a girl can be. And if two boys can be in love, why can’t two girls?

Tsukishima idolized the two for their courage and what their beautiful relationship stood for but he would never admit that out loud. For him to ever admit that, he would have to explain why it meant so much and he just wasn’t ready to come out yet. Only Yamaguchi knew and he wanted it to stay that way for as long as possible. He was still secretly ashamed. He was still disgusted with himself. He was an outlier, a freak, and nothing could ever change that.

All of a sudden, Tsukishima became aware of an awful pain in his right hand. He glanced down at where his hands had been resting peacefully on the desk. His left had curled easily into a fist, his blunt fingernails digging into his palm with ease. His right hand, however, was having a much harder time of it. His pinky and jammed finger still protested at every movement and this was just too much. He then became aware of the severe closeness of his eyebrows and the dramatic downturn of his lips and neutralized his expression. He needed to get a grip and he needed to get it now. He was able to keep the blank face in exchange for the fists clenching tighter, a hot, flaring, stabbing pain flaring up the outside of his hand and into the rest of his arm; Tsukishima wasn’t thinking, he couldn’t stop it, he was so sad and disgusted and he just felt so weird and wrong all the time and he was hurting himself really badly now and he had to-

“Stop.” What? Was he talking to himself? Last time he checked he wasn’t, so who was this? “Tsukki, what’s wrong?” Oh, that’s Yamaguchi’s voice. Why does he sound like that? Is he nervous? Angry? “You’re hurting yourself.” No, he’s worried. That means he noticed.

Tsukishima was finally snapped out of his awful daze by another hand grabbing his. He wrenched his gaze from the desktop. In his sorry state he had forgotten, somehow, about Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi, the sweet, overly talkative boy with constellations he despised dusting his skin. Yamaguchi, his endearingly clingy best friend. Yamaguchi, the boy now looking at him in- no, not pity, but worry. Tsukishima’s eyes snapped up to meet Yamaguchi’s, golden honey meeting warm chocolate, and he made a decision. There was no way in hell he was going to tell Yamaguchi about his self-hatred today, or the next day, or the next. He knew that the promise to himself was probably in vain. Yamaguchi had a way of getting him to say things he didn’t want to, but he needed this. He needed the false assurance, needed to feel grounded by something.

That something was Yamaguchi’s small hands forcing his fingers open, smoothing the bandages over his palm. He let his fingers linger then intertwined his with Tsukishima’s, squeezing gently for comfort. And yes, it hurt. But he couldn’t very well tell Yamaguchi that when he was trying to be nice. Tsukishima could tell from another look at Yamaguchi’s face that it hurt his friend to see him break down like this so he stood. He didn’t try hold Yamaguchi’s hand, but he didn’t let go.

He didn’t want to.

~~~

Yamaguchi didn’t know why he hadn’t let go of Tsukishima’s hand yet. He thought that it felt nice, really, to hold Tsukishima’s hand as they stood up and picked up their respective bags. He thought that it felt nice as they walked together out of the classroom, turning in the direction of the gym. He thought that it felt nice when, just before they turned the corner, Tsukishima actually held his hand back instead of just letting it hang limply. Yamaguchi was just about to open his mouth and say something- he hadn’t thought exactly about how he was going to phrase what he wanted to say, but he was sure he could figure it out as he went along- when Tsukishima dropped his hand.

Yamaguchi glanced up, curious and a little upset (not that he let it show, of course) and saw that the blond was looking at something down by the doors at the end of the hall about twenty feet away. He followed his friend’s gaze and saw Hinata there, pestering a clearly annoyed Kageyama about something. Yamaguchi rolled his eyes at the sight, brightening up a bit at the small scoff Tsukishima threw in their direction as they drew nearer.

Hinata looked up at the sight and smiled. “Tsukki! I-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Like the pro that he was at throwing off Tsukishima’s insults, Hinata continued. “I was wondering if you could help me work on receives. Kageyama here keeps making excuses about homework and stuff-”

Now it was Kageyama’s turn to interrupt Hinata. “Idiot, those aren’t excuses. I told you I have stuff to d-”

“Kageyama, you said you did all your work for this week in advance yesterday!”

Yamaguchi choked back a laugh. Could these two just bang and get over themselves already?

“That was yesterday! Hinata, I’m finally making the initiative in school that everyone wants, and now you want me to drop everything for you?”

“YES!”

“Shut up.” The arguing pair looked up with murder in their eyes but the look quickly died when they saw the sharpness in Tsukishima’s eyes.

Yamaguchi choked back another laugh. This was getting ridiculous. “You two, stop fighting. If it means that much then yes, Tsukki and I can stay back and help you.”

The blond blinked in surprise. “What.” That was a statement, not a question, and everyone present could tell. Hinata and Kageyama expected Yamaguchi to back down but he didn’t.

Yamaguchi was used to Tsukishima’s snapping by now, so he just continued his original thought. “Yep. We’re going to stay back because I know for a fact that Tsukishima did all of his work already and he wouldn’t do anything besides stay home and study and be boring. I don’t have anything to do either, and I need all the practice I can get. So we can both help.”

Kageyama sighed in relief. “At least I don’t have to deal with your bull for another two hours, Shrimpy.” He walked out of the double doors and to the gym before anyone had time to react.

Hinata rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath, somehow managing to ignore the scandalized look Yamaguchi threw at him. He turned back to the pair in front of him and grinned, the smile lighting up the rest of his face and the room with his own personal brand of sunlight. “Thanks, you guys. See you at practice!” With that, he was off, chasing Kageyama to the club room, leaving Yamaguchi and Tsukishima to make their way to the club room by themselves.

They did, wandering out into the post-rain, watery sunlight. The ground was still damp with the last vestiges of rain and the air held a bit of a chill. Despite all of this, Yamaguchi found it nice. He had never been one to like the heat. He opted instead to be cold, always saying that “if it’s cold, you can always add more layers of clothing. But if it’s hot, you can only take off so much before you’re arrested for indecent exposure!” Yamaguchi smiled. It was one of the many sayings he had picked up from his mother of the years, and it must have been a lot, because according to his father, he was a mama’s boy.

That made sense, he supposed. Yamaguchi liked more traditionally feminine and less active things, preferring to stay indoors as a child and play make-believe instead of go outside and hunt for beetles or climb trees. He remembered having imaginary friends as a kid, most of them female, and even (he would never admit this) an imaginary cat. He had always loved the idea simple companionship, just a few people at once, people he could truly talk to and connect with. That, he supposed, was why he and Tsukishima had connected so well. He always enjoyed the company of others. Crowds felt more natural than staying home alone, but he found in elementary school that being in a small group was what he liked most of all. Eventually, as time wore on, the small group he was in had melted away.

His small group had become Tsukishima and the volleyball team and he couldn’t have been happier.

Yamaguchi found himself smiling into the air. He felt at peace, certainly more than he had earlier when Tsukishima was clenching his hands like that. The thought made him reach for Tsukishima’s hand again, just to make sure he wasn’t still doing it as he told himself. “Hey, Tsukki?”

“Hm?”

“Are you angry that I volunteered your help?”

“Not really. A bit frustrated, but I think I understand why you did it.”

Yamaguchi nodded. “Yeah, those two just need to get over it. They won’t stop arguing and it’s just easier to have them separated most of the time. Plus Hinata really needed help, you mentioned something about wanting to try and spike left handed, I need practice… it just seemed to work, you know?”

Tsukishima nodded and they spent the rest of their short trek to the club room in silence.


End file.
